


Halftime

by skivvysupreme



Category: Glee
Genre: Fluff, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-06
Updated: 2017-02-06
Packaged: 2018-09-22 12:48:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9608228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skivvysupreme/pseuds/skivvysupreme
Summary: Blaine loves football, Kurt loves scarves. Somewhere in the middle of those interests lies Lady Gaga's halftime show at Superbowl LI.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Have some self-indulgent fluff because I am a helpless little monster and so is Kurt

“Mark my words, Anderson: you’re gonna owe me $50 when this is all over. Falcons have the lead and they’re not letting it go.” 

Blaine shakes his head and sets three cold beers and a fresh, warm bowl of cheese dip on the coffee table as he rejoins his in-laws in front of the TV. “Oh, I’m just ‘Anderson’ when there’s a game on the line, huh?” 

“You’re just ‘Anderson’ whenever you’re in a Patriots jersey,” Burt laughs, elbowing Blaine just hard enough to tip him over a little on the couch. 

“Am I still ‘Carole?’” Carole asks, exchanging an amused look with Blaine from Burt’s other side. She and Blaine are both in blue and white, sporting #12 jerseys; Burt, clad in the Falcons’ black and red, had grumbled at the sight of both of them when they all sat down together in the living room.

“Of course, honey. Coulda picked a better player to represent, but…” 

“I’ve got a soft spot for quarterbacks,” shrugs Carole, a soft little grin on her face. Burt sighs and wraps an arm around her shoulder, kissing her cheek. 

“Brady’s got four Super Bowl rings!” Blaine scoffs. “You can’t deny that he’s good!” 

Burt rolls his eyes and turns around on the couch. “Kurt!“ 

“Is it time for Gaga?” Kurt calls back from his and Blaine’s bedroom. 

“They’ve got me outnumbered, come back me up!” 

“Kurt, babe, you love Tom Brady, don’t you?”

There’s an exasperated groan, and then Kurt yells again, this time louder, more insistent, and borderline hysterical: _“IS… IT… TIME… FOR… GAGA?!”_

“No, baby – I mean, once these commercials are over, but–” 

“You’re both grown men, figure it out!” Kurt answers, and Blaine laughs and stuffs a tortilla chip in his mouth. They’re not getting anything out of Kurt until the halftime show starts. 

“I know my son, and he loves an underdog just as much as I do,” says Burt. “He’d root for the Falcons.”

“I know my husband, and he would root for the Patriots by default, because Mr. Tall, Athletic, and Talented is exactly his type,” Blaine retorts, adding with a self-deprecating little shrug, “I gave him two out of three.” 

Carole laughs out loud at Blaine’s comment, covering her mouth with one hand so she doesn’t spit out her beer. Then she quickly swallows and waves a hand at the TV, bouncing in her seat as she yells, “KURT, IT’S TIME!” 

The bedroom door bangs open as Kurt sprints into the living room, wearing his old “LIKES BOYS” t-shirt from Glee club and a pair of snug black sweatpants. He doesn’t bother sitting in the open armchair, instead choosing to bounce on his toes behind the couch, his hands clenched into fists.

Blaine stares with his beer halfway to his mouth. He hasn’t seen that shirt in years, and, well… he supposes it still fits, in the sense that Kurt has managed to get it onto his lean, muscular person without ripping it. Blaine takes a long swig of his beer and turns back to the TV. 

The camera cuts to a starry panorama, soft piano playing in the background, then zooms in on Lady Gaga in a sparkling, silvery bodysuit with huge shoulders. Kurt gapes at the screen. “Where is–? Oh my god, is she on the ROOF?” 

“Holy crap, she’s on the roof,” Blaine confirms. 

“Oh, she sounds so good,” Kurt gasps, his hand on his chest, subconsciously mimicking Gaga’s stance as she sings “God Bless America” with American flag-shaped lights above her. “This is the most patriotic I’m going to feel this year, I just know it.” 

“I’m with you there, Kurt,” snorts Burt. 

Then Gaga jumps off the roof, descending onto the field on a wire as lights flash all over the stadium and pyrotechnics explode around the stage. Kurt _screeches_. “Oh my god, this is amazing, this is already epic, she is _next-level!”_

_“Ma-ma-ma-ma…”_

“IT’S ‘POKER FACE!’ IT’S ‘POKER FACE!’”

Gaga lifts off the stage and flips as she sings, still suspended in a harness, and Kurt dances in place as he watches her, looking positively delighted. Blaine can’t help but look back and forth between Kurt and the TV, his husband’s reactions too adorable to miss. He loves Gaga too, and he’s excited to see her perform, but his excitement is no match to Kurt’s.

The music shifts, and Gaga leaps from her platform again, flipping through the air towards the main stage and landing smoothly in a fleet of dancers. Kurt’s fingers wiggle anxiously in the air as he waits for the next song, the music still giving too much ‘Poker Face’ for him to tell what it is. 

When the beat and chords of “Born This Way” kick in, Kurt closes his eyes, clutches the back of the couch and breathes, “ _Yes, yes yes_ –”

“You okay back there, buddy?” Burt laughs, looking over his shoulder at his son. 

“I – this shirt, it’s from – this _song_ , it’s so important, especially now,” Kurt says, shaking his head as he composes himself, standing up straight once Gaga starts to sing. Then Kurt starts to dance, and Blaine recognizes his moves from an old Glee club video they’ve watched together several times over. It was the first time Kurt performed with the New Directions after his transfer to Dalton and back. Blaine feels a little pang in his chest when he thinks about that performance; he distinctly remembers swooning at that video the first time he saw it, watching Kurt be so proud and happy with his friends, leading the song with Mercedes by his side and “LIKES BOYS” across his chest. 

Kurt has the same look on his face now as he did then. Blaine still swoons.

Burt jumps when Kurt suddenly screams along with the song, “NO MATTER GAY, STRAIGHT, OR BI, LESBIAN, TRANSGENDER LIFE, I’M ON THE RIGHT TRACK, BABY, I WAS BORN TO SURVIVE!”

“Jesus, Kurt–”

“Do you know how many homophobic jerks must be watching this right now?” Kurt crows, rocking back and forth on his toes with joy. He leans down and hugs Blaine around the neck, and Blaine turns and kisses his cheek, beaming. 

The music changes again, and then–

“AAACK!” Blaine croaks, Kurt’s grip around his neck quickly tightening a little too much before he releases him and starts pacing in circles behind the couch. 

“Oh my god, oh my god, if Beyonce is here, I’m gonna pass out.” 

“Telephone” is a fierce performance, but devoid of Beyonce, and Kurt puts a hand on his chest when it’s over, sighing in relief, “Oh, good, I don’t think I could’ve handled that, I – Is that a keytar? LOOK AT THAT GOLD JACKET!” 

Carole bursts out laughing, “Kurt, sweetheart… Breathe.” 

 _“Just dance, gonna be okay, da da doo doo!”_ Kurt’s shimmying and twisting his arms around in the air, completely absorbed in the music. 

Burt turns to Carole and says, “In 23 years, I don’t think I’ve seen him this excited about anything.” 

Gaga’s at a piano on the other side of the dimmed stage, glowing yellow lanterns popping up in the audience’s hands throughout the stadium.  _“America? World? How you doing tonight? We’re here to make you feel good, you want to feel good with us?”_

“This is beautiful. She looks beautiful,” Carole says, swaying along in her seat with the audience – and Kurt doing the same behind her – as Gaga plays “Million Reasons.” 

“I love her so much,” Kurt whispers, leaning against the back of the couch. Blaine reaches for his hand and watches Kurt for the entirety of the song, the soft, dewy look on his face tugging at Blaine’s heartstrings. 

Then it’s time for “Bad Romance,” and Kurt squeals as he backs away from the couch and dances along with more New Directions choreography, imprinted onto his brain for eternity, it seems. The dancers are going crazy, Gaga’s going crazy, lights are spinning all over the place, the stage is exploding with fire – Kurt starts laughing again, sheer unadulterated glee taking over his body as the finale reaches its crescendo. 

Gaga, at the top of a staircase at the edge of the stage, screams,  _“SUPER BOWL 51!”_ drops the mic into the audience, catches a football thrown in from off-screen, and leaps off the platform into nowhere, her landing unseen.

Carole, Burt, and Blaine, erupt into applause, whooping and cheering, but Kurt goes silent behind them. 

“Did that live up to your expectations, Kurt?” Burt asks, swiveling in his seat to look at him.

Kurt takes a deep breath, his abrupt stillness a little alarming after the display he’s just put on. “That was transcendent,” he announces, his voice gone tight as his eyes begin to water.

“Oh, Kurt, are you okay?” Blaine hops off the couch and puts a hand on his back, rubbing in soothing circles. 

Kurt nods, blinking at the ceiling. “I hope the rest of the game is just as exciting for you all, but I have to call Tina. Right now.” He squeezes Blaine’s shoulder and returns to the bedroom. Just before he closes the door, he pops his head back out, clears his throat, and says, “By the way: Blaine is right. Gisele’s husband is incredible.”

Burt sighs and heads to the kitchen for another beer as Blaine and Carole cheer and high-five each other behind him.


End file.
